Sticks and Stones
by The Bunnies Will Kill Us All
Summary: When endowed with the ability to negotiate with rocks, you can be fairly sure life will never be simple. My life was worse than complicated, it was a series of humiliating defeats. Options depleted, I was sent to Bloors Academy. GSOC.
1. Seasonal Change and a Change of Venue

_**Chapter One – Seasonal Change and a Change of Venue**_

So what's winter exactly? I mean, I know its cold, and not much grows. But people always use the word in such a negative way. I mean, 'the winter of her life...' how depressing is that? And the story of the grasshopper that sang all summer and froze to death when winter came? It's sad. It's very sad.

What if the grasshopper liked winter? It could have sung all winter and then sweated to death when summer came. But no one ever thinks of it that way. They always see half of everything. Summer is hot, winter is cold, but there's more to it than that. Summer may be warm, and everyone seems to love that, but really, it's hot, sweaty and insect filled.

What's so great about that? Insects suck. They bite and buzz around; no one likes bugs except for the few weirdoes who like bugs. They're the ones who never got any hugs. But for the rest of us, the ones who got hugged every now and then, bugs are gross and annoying. See? A dark side to summer.

Winter, winter may be cold, and possibly quite windy, and you may get chapped lips, but there aren't any bugs. Yep, they're frozen solid. The only bugs I see in winter are the ones that get stuck in ice cubes and served in drinks. And hey, it's easier to get warm than it is to get cold. In winter you can just wear layers, in summer you have to jump into a dozen or so cubic meters of water. I think I know which of the two seems easier.

While you've been listening to my witty repertoire on the many pitfalls of seasonal change, I have been packing my suitcase. Why? Because I'm academy bound. Brilliant, they called me, when I set a group of pointy rocks on my science teacher. Breathtaking was my rage induced performance on the geology field trip, where we literally drove out to a field to look at rocks. Gobsmacking was the word used when the said rocks we were watching decided to burrow underground so that the entire field and a few miles of surrounding land were completely freed of all rocks and stones.

If you are an idiot, and haven't guessed, I control the hard and gravelly. It's my so called special talent, my oh-so-freaking fabulous endowment. Yeah, I was totally jazzed when I found out why pieces of unresponsive stone acted so strangely around me. Of course, there are considerable barriers when it comes to my talent. I didn't have much control over it and sometimes rock just doesn't want to listen to you.

It also meant that I was packing my bags and shipping up to Boston, so to speak. I was really going to Bloor's, but that there is a real good song by Dropkick Murphys. Oh, I'm also kind of a music freak, as you may have picked up.

The discovery of my power had really put things in perspective for me, I mean, it made sense. I've always been strong in an emotional sense, but at the same time, not so strong. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm sensitive, but I'm strong, too. Public displays of emotion tend to freak me out a little (especially crying) and I'm dreading the tearful farewell I'm sure to get when I leave for Bloors.

But besides that, I'm not too sad about leaving home. This place hasn't exactly been great to me. To many embarrassing memories, and way too many people I know. There's something really exciting about new beginnings, I mean, I could be anything. I could be _cool_.

Then again, I probably wouldn't like being cool. Plus, I'm not that cool a person. Nope, I'm the common, never-been-kissed kind of loser that you find all over the joint. Common, except for one thing.

So I guess, in this instance, my endowment is the golden ticket. It's the thing that's hauling me up from under this pathetic excuse for a civic community and sending me off to a private school in some far-off place where no one knows how uncool and socially stunted I am.

By the way, my names Bridget Lark. Endowed, 15 years old, also known as Dimples.


	2. Swallowed a Fly

_**Chapter Two – Swallowed a Fly**_

I stood outside the iron wrought gates of the academy, feeling very small. The doors were locked, and of course my mother had already been driven away by the creepy atmosphere of the place, ready to hop right back on a plane and leave me here. So I stood there. Waiting.

It was a frosty day, and I was considering the novelty of leaving for home before my toes fell off when I realised that home was many miles away. I was supposed to be staying with my cousin but they wouldn't be ready for me until Friday.

It was then that a creepy looking young man appeared at the gate. He was tall, with dark eyes that I didn't want to meet strait on. He seemed to be staring at me incredulously.

"Hello!" I squeaked hopefully, "Do you think you could let me in?"

The young man gave me a dark look and took a step towards the gate, peering through the bars to get a better look at me, "School starts on Monday, and it happens to be Wednesday. I suggest you check you calendar properly before showing up at a fine institution such as this."

I was taken aback by his substandard graces, but continued to argue my way into the Academy nonetheless, "Look, I'm new, today just happened to be the day that I got here after my _very_ long travels. I was supposed to be here Sunday but my flight got cancelled and my luggage… well, it was bad. And I'm here now. So please, let me in."

"Name?" suspicion was clear in his voice.

"Bridget Lark."

"Fine. Come in, and hurry up about it, breakfast is starting in a minute."

The gates creaked open just enough for me to slip through, and shut with a deafening clang the second I was clear of them. I adjusted my rucksack and stared pointedly at the boy, waiting.

"What do you want now?" he snapped, "a grand tour? Girl's dormitories? Past the cloak rooms there is a flight of _very big stairs_. Go up the stairs until you get to the _third level_. Then go all the way down the third hallway to your right, _your right_, not your left! And make a left at the end. Your name should be on one of the third former lists." he spoke in an insultingly slow tone, though I didn't really notice, I was busy frantically trying to remember how to get to the dorms.

"Okay," I squeaked, "Thanks…"

"My name is Manfred but you may call me Sir. I am a teaching assistant, and I have a feeling that we will meet again." He glared after me scathingly as I walked hurriedly into the cold building.

Luckily, in the end (that is, after three wrong turns and a short lecture about organisation) I did find my dorm room. Even luckier was the fact that it was not yet empty. There were two girls chattering away, one with a purple cloak and with hair a nasty shade of green, and a slighter, green cloaked girl. I dumped my bag on an unclaimed bed and turned to the girls, hopeful that they could help me.

"Hello…" I said nervously, worried about interrupting their conversation, "I'm…"

"Oh!" exclaimed the green haired, purple caped girl. "A new girl! In the middle of the term, you know what that means, Em!" the latter comment was directed at the shyer looking girl.

"I'm Bridget Lark." I said uncertainly, "I was wondering if you could help me figure out my timetable? I think I'm in music."

The cheery green haired girl stepped forward, extending her hand, "Olivia Vertigo. Drama. And this is Emma Tolly. She's in art. All the people in purple cloaks are in drama, and everyone in green is in art. Nice to meet you."

"And blue cloaks are music," Emma chimed in, "a few of our friends are in music, but they're boys, so we'll try and help you find one of them at breakfast."

"Thanks," I took Olivia's hand and shook it, "So… What do we do now?"

"Grab your books and we'll take you to breakfast." Olivia said promptly, piling her own schoolwork into a fluorescent orange backpack. I hurried to do the same, all the while puzzling over this girl's very bizarre sense of style.

"To breakfast!" she exclaimed, and off we went.

**ĦĦĦ**

The sizeable dining hall came as quite a shock; the place was both spacious and dreary. It was fitting to see many despondent faces staring me down as I passed. Olivia was walking me to the music group, and Emma had already departed to the art table. Olivia approached a group of boys that looked to be our age, all in blue capes similar to myself.

There were four, one was cheery faced and freckled, the other was sallow and hedge haired, one was a small, pointy albino with red eyes and the last was a lanky looking boy with a forlorn expression and an intense gaze. I noted that the albino looked far too young to be in school, and he seemed to be speaking to his lap.

"Hey, you guys!" Olivia grinned, rocking back on her heels, "look who I found in my dorm this fine morning! New student, _mid term_, slightly unusual. Must be endowed. Wish she was in drama with me, but alas, it's up to you lads to take care of her. Well, tootle loo!"

And with that the green haired mongrel just_ bounced _off.

Unsure of what to do, I stood there, quietly, being stared at by four boys I didn't know.

"Um…"

They continued looking at me, strangely, like I had sprouted an extra head. I blushed, and stammered, "Hello." There was a pause, "I'm Bridget."

"Fidelio Gunn." The freckly one said merrily.

"I'm Charlie Bone, and this is Billy." The hedge haired one said, inspired into speaking by his friend. The albino, Billy, nodded in acknowledgement.

The forlorn looking boy, however, was jittery, much like myself, "I'm Gabrielsilk." He said with a blush.

"Huh?" the confused noise slipped out.

He looked at me, blushing harder than before, "Gabriel, I'm Gabriel. Gabriel Silk. Um, nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too." I returned, "All of you. Do you mind if I…?"

"Oh not at all, sit, sit." Fidelio ushered, "In between me and Gabe."

The two boys made room for me and I slipped onto the bench in between them, I accidentally caught Gabriel's eye and we both quickly looked away, blushing copiously. I felt ridiculous, not being able to look someone in the eye. On the other hand, inspecting the grain of the large wooden table in detail could be interesting too…

"So, Bridget," Fidelio conversed with an air of politeness, "You got a last name?"

"You're endowed, right?" That was Charlie.

"Lark." I replied.

"What?"

"My surname. It's Lark."

"Oh."

"So…" Charlie pressed, "You are endowed, right?"

I glanced over at Charlie in bemusement, I would have preferred that they dropped it, but they are fifteen year old boys… "Yes." I said with a forced smile, "I am."

"Me too." Gabriel spoke up, "We all are."

"Except for Fido." Charlie added.

"Figures." I leaned back a bit, withdrawing from my study of the table. It had occurred to me that I had been somewhat excited about coming here, so it would be wise if I actually tried to make friends.

"What figures?" That was from Billy.

"Well, Fidelio seemed all nice and normal. Should have guessed, really."

"You're saying my good old friends here aren't normal?" Fidelio demanded in good nature.

"Honestly? Yes." I grinned a little. They all laughed at that, even the shy Gabriel could muster a small chuckle.

"So, what do you do?" Charlie was at it again with the darned questioning. I realised that I probably couldn't sidestep the conversation forever, so I conceded to defeat.

"Well, I kind of control rocks." I admitted awkwardly, hoping that the discussion would end there.

"Kind of?" Billy peeped from his place three seats down.

"Have you ever tried talking to a rock?" I didn't realise the oddness of my statement until I had already said it. Who tries talking to rocks? Cats, dogs, rats, yeah. All good and well. But not a soul on gods green earth would be willing to try and converse with a rock.

Except maybe me.

"Can't say that I have." Fidelio smiled in amusement; there were no smart alec responses from anyone else, so I guessed that the endowed at least were used to a little strangeness.

"Not very agreeable. Doesn't always work out the way I plan." I said.

"Well, I can travel into pictures, and Billy talks to animals. Gabriel can feel emotion through clothing." Charlie filled me in. I nodded, acutely aware of the growing irritation of a certain forlorn boy on my right.

"Do you mind?" Gabriel frowned sharply.

"We all know what you do anyway, Gabe." Charlie said defensively, "Not a secret or anything."

"Doesn't mean I want everyone to spread it around to people I don't even know, Charlie." Gabriel said. I got the impression that he was considerably more reserved than the others.

He caught my eye, "not that I think you're untrustworthy or anything!" he jittered nervously, "It's just that I've just met you and I don't know what you're like." I raised my eyebrows questioningly, and he stammered on "Um, not like I'm expecting bad things or anything. I'm sure you're not like Tracy Morsell or anything, oh, you don't know who that is… Well, the point being…" he sighed in frustration, "I'm sure you're very nice."

I smiled a little at his awkwardness, and assured him that I didn't take offence. Though I couldn't help thinking '_finally, someone more socially inept that I am._'

"What instrument do you all play?" I asked.

"Trumpet," Charlie frowned, "though I'm not very good. Mr. Partly called me a disgrace to music last lesson."

"Violin," Fidelio was quick to answer, "and Billy is a flute boy himself, though like some of the other endowed he finds it a little hard. Gabe is brilliant, though."

"Oh?" I smiled, turning to Gabriel "and what do you play?"

"Piano." He answered with a steadiness that nerves had previously hidden.

"I'm going to be doing piano, actually." I shifted in my seat, worried about the similarities that were stacking up between me and this Gabriel.

"Have you played before?" he asked in quiet interest.

"Yes."

"How did that go?"

"It was unspeakably dreadful. My instructor told me that if I ever came back she would throw a book at me and write 'imbecile' across my forehead in permanent marker," I said shamelessly, "I hope I don't offend anyone with the terribleness of it. The people here seemed to think I was too enthusiastic about hitting things to try drums. They know I can't pay for any equipment I break, and they thought that I'd have a hard time breaking a two tonne piano…" I frowned, "I hope they were right."

Gabriel suppressed a laugh, "Any other instruments they considered?"

"Um… yeah, trumpet." I said evasively, this was not a story I wanted to share.

"What happened there?" Gabriel pressed, and though he was asking for a story I'd never retell, I liked that he was talking to me.

"I'd rather not say." I saw Gabriel ease off, looking unconcerned.

"Come on, can't be that bad." Fidelio pushed.

"It can." I said shortly.

"Tell us!" Billy nagged.

"She doesn't have to tell us if she doesn't want to." Gabriel interjected quietly.

"But it sounds like it'd be a funny story." Charlie pushed once more. I dimly realised that new endowed were really important at this god forsaken school.

"Fine. I'll tell you," I paused, "but you need to understand that I'm one of these people who bad things happen to. When I fall, it is usually into a pile of mud. When I get tripped by someone, it's often in front of people I like. I _always _get the desk that has gum on the underside of it. I always lose my umbrella on rainy days, _black cats_ cross my path constantly, and I have a habit of walking under ladders. Of course if we remember the incident of '99 then we will know that as I was walking under this ladder a bucket of paint fell on my head. _It wouldn't come off_ until I bathed in the paint removing chemical. I have horrible, horrible luck. So understand that this story is not nearly as odd as it sounds when it happens to me."

"Well… I was playing the trumpet…"

"She's playing the trumpet…" Charlie visualised, only to get pinched by Billy "Ouch!"

"And I was breathing in…"

"She's breathing in…" Fidelio repeated slowly, also suffering a pinch from Billy.

"And… I inhaled a fly."

"You _what_?!" spluttered Billy, who was then pinched by both Charlie and Fidelio at the same time "YERROUCH!!"

"I… swallowed a fly. While playing the trumpet."

"You _swallowed _a fly." Gabriel said in slow disbelief, "_a fly_."

"While playing the _trumpet_?!" Charlie exclaimed in astonishment, "who swallows bugs while playing the trumpet?"

"Well… _me_."

"Well, that settles it." Gabriel announced, "You are officially not allowed within ten feet of the piano. It's survived a few decades but I think an encounter with you might just finish it off."

"Oh, I'm sure I wouldn't break it, maybe I'd just get my finger stuck in a key or something." I tried desperately; earning a well deserved 'hah!' from Charlie.

"Wait… how'd you get your finger stuck in a piano key?" Gabriel questioned again. I noticed how freely he spoke now; maybe he was just a little shy at first.

"Oh, I'd manage it somehow."


	3. Touchwood

_**Chapter Three – Touchwood**_

**ĦĦĦ**

"How'd she go on her first lesson?" Charlie asked Gabriel once safely in their dorms.

Gabriel glanced up ruefully, hiding a grin, "Well, she got her finger stuck in a piano key. The piano itself will be fine; she hurt her finger, though."

Charlie and Fidelio stared in silence for a moment, and a few of their dorm mates snorted in disbelief at the idea of someone being able to get their finger stuck in a piano key. They, of course, had not met Bridget. Finally, Fidelio said, "you think I'd be surprised, but I'm not, really."

Charlie's brow creased with confusion, "Wait, the piano _will be_ fine?"

"Well, we kind of had to use a chainsaw to cut the piano keys off, so she could get her finger out. So it'll take a few days to repair the piano. We're using that huge organ downstairs till then." Gabriel grinned, dropping the pretence of not finding the situation amusing.

"You know what, don't say anything else, I _really_ don't want to know. Plus, we're all going to be late for dinner."

Gabriel looked up, eyes alight with mirth, "No, you really don't want to know the rest of the story."

**ĦĦĦ**

So, my first day was tragic. Really tragic. Ultra-tragic. Franco Zeferelli's '_Romeo and Juliet_' kind of tragic. I had a souvenir of the tragicness of the day, a band aid, wrapped around my index finger, and a severed piano key. The one I got my finger stuck under, naturally.

And I'd _just_ started kind-of-sorta-not-really flirting with Gabriel! It had been a critical moment! We'd both been siting at the piano seat, along with Mr. Pilgrim. Our hands were touching on the seat, and he wasn't pulling away! I was going to push my luck with a cute smile or something when my luck realised that it had already been pushed. Thus at that moment my finger got stuck under the piano key.

The most humiliating part was when Mr. Pilgrim decided to cut me out with a chainsaw. Gabriel had found it funny, for the most part, which I guess was for the best. Better than the other forms of ridicule he could have hit me with (mockery, cruelty, public retellings…). No, laughter at my predicament was probably for the best.

I suppose the worst part about this horribly tragic day is that it's not yet over. I still have dinner and homework in the Kings Room. Gabriel did say he'd meet me at dinner, so that may be something to look forward to.

I was gussying up a little when Olivia reappeared in the dorm, she immediately came over to me and chattered happily, offering to help with my hair. I accepted gratefully, handing her the brush.

"Soooo…" Olivia started brushing my hair absentmindedly, her eyes trained on my expression on the mirror, "I saw you and Gabe at lunch today, you looked pretty cosy."

"Did I?" I tried indifference as an effective approach.

"I've never seen him take to someone so quickly, let alone a girl." She prodded hopefully.

"Really, now?" I tried to stay cool.

"So, have you snogged yet?" she asked blithely, experimenting with my fringe.

"What?" I burst as the previous statement registered in my brain. Olivia was obviously not one to sugar coat.

"Well, he pulled out your chair for you at lunch. I know Gabe is a gentleman and all, but he's never done that for me or Em. I don't think he's snogged anyone before, so if you two had snogged, or were thinking of snogging, then that would explain the whole chair incident."

"So according to you, the only reason Gabriel would act like a gentleman would be if he was getting something out of it?" I snipped, a little insulted on Gabriel's behalf.

"No!" Olivia tried to redeem herself by giving me an extra pretty hairdo, "Its just I know he likes you!"

"How?" I tried to keep the sourness out of my voice.

"It's obvious. _Everyone_ thinks so."

"Right. Great. And_ why_ would he like me?" I snipped.

"Because you're _pretty_."

"I am not _pretty_," I glared at Olivia, "my complexion makes me look permanently sickly, my center balance is nonexistent, my eyes are a boring colour, and so is my hair. My nose is too long. Don't use that as an example."

"Why not? Gabriel seems to think you rather pretty," Olivia replied impetuously, "and you're just his type. Cute and shy, all that stuff. Oh, and it's totally obvious that you like him too, so I guess that's good for his self esteem."

"Right." I managed, my cheeks highly coloured.

"Aw, you're blushing!"

"Get off!" I cried, "just leave me alone!"


	4. Teach Me Tonight

_**Chapter Four – Teach Me Tonight**_

**ĦĦĦ**

The Kings Room was a daunting place. Even with the euphoria of Gabriel telling me he liked my hair still running strong I couldn't bring myself to feel comfortable in there. I absently wondered wether it was the place or the people that made it unpleasant. Probably both.

"New student, Bridget Lark. Get your work out, this isn't a classroom; I won't break my back trying to teach you, so do it yourself, and no talking." Manfred said curtly, before sitting down abruptly and glaring at me. I looked down instinctively, staring at my math book for a whole minute before I sighed and reluctantly began work. My math teacher had not been kind. I hate math.

The numbers made my head fuzzy. I felt a painful thud develop at my temple. I hated math _so much_. What other subject could bring me to a migraine?

A scrunched up ball of paper hit me in the head. I looked up. That was a mistake; the next object to fly at me nearly hit me in the eye. It was a pen too.

It was those twins. They were creepy identical dolls, and they were glaring at me like I was some kind of disgusting vermin. I frowned at them in what I imagined to be a questioning way, which clearly was a mistake, seeing as the next object to zoom at me was a Heinemann Atlas, closely followed by an encyclopaedia as big as my head. I did the only logical thing, I ducked.

Well, it was more like a dive to safety, and I fell off my chair to avoid the giant objects. That made quite a bit of noise, and everyone turned to look at me, the "Good" endowed looked sympathetic, or were glaring at the twins, the others looked amused. Manfred looked irritated. I took this to be a bad sign.

Emma, who was sitting on my other side, helped me up. I felt like an idiot, and my knees were grazed.

"I suppose your common school found it amusing when students crashed off chairs," Manfred drawled loathingly, "but this is not a common school, so I suggest that you grow accustomed to our proper rules or you will find yourself in a very unamusing position."

"They were throwing things at me," I said argumentatively, feeling that this had been too aggravating a day for me to handle, "with their minds, they could have taken my eye out!"

"Excuse me?" Manfred's voice was deadly quiet.

"They-" I started, but then re assessed Manfred's facial expression, "Nothing," I corrected myself meekly, "sir."

"Sit down, you idiotic girl."

I obeyed, feeling stupid, but muttering something under my breath.

The next half an hour passed in silence, _only another hour and a half to go_, I thought bitterly. I was nearing the end of my math homework, and was not looking forward to the extended response question about Scotland in 1314 (I had accidentally told my History teacher William Wallace had been the king of England at the time, and had been called an abysmally stupid girl in response to this answer). I wasn't bad at history, I just hadn't been listening.

"Gabriel Silk, are you hoping to find the answer to your homework on Bridget Lark's face?" Manfred's voice cut through the silence. I looked up, alarmed at being mentioned again, and saw Gabriel looking away from me hurriedly. I blushed.

"No, sir."

"Then keep your eyes down and get back to work."

Gabriel did not look up again.

Emma glanced at me, "still think he doesn't like you?" she whispered. I did not respond, other than blushing rather noticeably.

She didn't give up, "he totally does."

"Does not."

"Does."

"Does not."

"Does."

"Does n-"

"Would you two care to share your conversation with the rest of us? Tolly? Lark?" Manfred's voice cut through the relative silence for what felt like the umpteenth time. He looked livid.

"Nothing sir." Emma was quick to respond. I nodded vigorously.

"Oh, no. You two seemed to be having such fun," hardly, I thought, "and I want to know what keeps kids entertained these days." I swear, he acted like he was in his thirties and like there was something large and obtrusive stuck up his backside…

"Um, just telling Bridget that I…" Emma was obviously under pressure.

"Yes?"

"Um… That I needed her to be my science partner! Yeah, we can choose, and me, her, Gabe and Bruce Leverman are the only ones without partners yet." Emma finished lamely. I winced internally.

"Well, clearly you two need not work together, you have proven yourselves incapable," Manfred said nastily, "guess you'll have to go with Bruce, eh, Tolly? Leaving Silk and Lark to work together, shouldn't be hard if Silk can muster the brain strength." I blushed to the highest degree, and Gabriel looked like he was torn between feeling incensed and humiliated.

Zelda laughed scathingly, and Asa sniggered unpleasantly. The twins cracked identical evil smiles and Manfred looked like he had told a very good joke.

"Do I have an understanding?"

"Yes, sir." We replied weakly. I frowned, shoving my math homework aside and getting started on history. _Q1. What was Piers Gaveston's role in the 1314 Bannockburn Campaign? _

I couldn't really think of much to write other than that he kept Edward II busy in the bedroom while Robert Bruce recovered his empire, so I tried my best to word things as delicately as possible. I think I may have done alright, but it's hard to tell with these things. Bloors is meant for geniuses, people who know everything there is to know about everything. And while I may be clever I am certainly not a genius (in fact, in the matter of math I am about as useful as a fishbowl) and I could not be expected to work at this pace and be able to sleep the night through simultaneously.

Finally, finally, finally, finally,_ finally_ Manfred dismissed us. At which point I nearly died of shock. Letting us out before Christmas? Well, blow me down.

**ĦĦĦ**

I sighed, hurrying up the stairs of the music tower. My playing had been so perfunctory that Mr. Pilgrim had allowed me to practice after homework every night. Of course, he had not yelled at me, he was a rather patient, albeit quiet teacher.

Beautiful music drifted down to meet my ears.

I recognised it as Moonlit Sonata, my favourite of all Beethoven's music.

I knew who must be playing; Gabriel had been practicing the piece today.

"Hey there," I said softly. The music ceased.

"Hello," he replied, a light smile on his usually downcast face, "I take it you're here to practice?"

I nodded. He patted the stool next to him. I sat down obediently.

"You don't have to-"

"Don't take this personally, but you need the tutoring more than I do." Gabriel smiled gently, flicking through sheets of music, "try this."

I obeyed, bravely attempting the uncomplicated piece of music. I knew my ability to play on any level of acceptable was greatly compromised by his presence, I'd be to nervous to try and try to play properly. The sound that came forth was muddled and unpleasant, not really flowing like it was supposed to.

Gabriel winced, and stopped my hands moving. I grimaced.

"Bad, huh?" I guessed, peering at his expression.

He smiled diplomatically, "there's nothing wrong with needing a little practice," he said lightly.

"So," I drawled, watching Gabriel as he flicked through the sheets to find a simpler piece, "we're science partners."

"Yeah," he replied, "I guess so."

"Sorry you got dragged into that thing with me and Manfred."

"You got pulled into that thing with me and Manfred too," Gabriel shrugged, blushing, "it's no big deal. He was just trying to intimidate you."

"It worked really well." I nodded.

He laughed, indicating another page, "try this first, it's a little easier."

It was still bad, I knew, but it was ever so slightly better than before. However, Gabriel did stop me.

"You're going too fast," he said softly, "relax, slow down."

I nodded. He suddenly placed his hands on top of mine, aligning our fingers.

"Let me show you," he murmured, guiding my fingers to the right keys, I breathed in.

Time slipped by as music echoed through the tower. Eventually we stopped, alerted by the hour. My playing had slightly improved by this point.

Gabriel seemed slightly flustered, he kept on knocking things over and blushing. I was baffled, usually that was my job.

"Well, um, bye." He stuttered, almost toppling over a violin resting on a stool as he rushed out of the room.

He actually switched the lights off behind him as he left.

I stood there, alone, in the dark for a moment.

I am such a loser.

"Well… bye," I muttered, followed by "that was _weird_…"

**ĦĦĦ**

A/N – We've got some Gabe/Bridget action coming up, so review to speedy up the process!


End file.
